Waking in Hell
by Abisian
Summary: [COMPLETE ... I think XP] Rock is heartbroken down in Zone One when something very unexpected changes his life.
1. Part 1

It was different . . . 

So, so different, and so, so cold. The deafening cries that filled the night's air were loud, clouding his mind. They were crying out to for the Marduks to spare their lives, crying out like children, crying out because they're scared to take their fate as it came at them . . .

Rock felt disgusted at how stupid they could be. Obvious it was that they would die,

obvious . . . The fire blazed in front of his eyes, reflecting off of his glasses. The blood that pooled around his feet flooded the ground, staining the stone red. These were humans dyeing, humans, not robots. Robots were the only beings in Rock's mind that deserved to die. Yet these humans . . . were so stupid, so careless . . . and Rock . . . oh, how he hated them.

He closed his eyes tight and stepped forward, blood leaking from the bottom of his boots, making footprints along the still-dry stone. Zone 1. Zone 1 was burning. Duke Red had ordered the motion, and now it was nearly complete. 

Shouts were still heard, and Rock was prepared to stop them . . . stop the screams of these mere, petty humans. His gun was still held tensely in his shaking hand as he slowly walked toward the scene before him, the fire sweltering hot. He felt nothing as his trance-like state led him on.

He stopped mere feet from the burning fire and raised his gun.

Only two seconds after his gun was moved two shots rang through the cry-filled air. One hit his gun, yet he held tightly to it, and one tore fiercely and painfully quick through his right shoulder. 

He fell to one knee, bringing his left hand to cover the bleeding hole. His eyes were closed tightly, yet no tears came to him. They opened and he felt an anger boil inside of him.

Who dare shoot at the leader of Marduks, Duke Red's only son?

Rock stood slowly, hearing the Marduks behind him beginning to shout victoriously as the people and few robots of Zone 1 perished in their shooting and burning. Few captives could faintly be heard crying and whimpering behind him, yet he didn't care. He didn't seem to care about anything at the moment, except the careless bastard who had shot at him only moments before.

He stared blankly into the fire, then turned to face the gateway behind him. One man stood there, clad in red, and Rock's eyes widened, his heart skipping a beat as he recognized him . . .

Rock's glasses had slid to the end of his sweaty nose, and they went flying into the air as he fiercely shook his head- afraid of what he was seeing. Were his eyes deceiving him?

He never thought he would do this. He detested Rock, this Rock knew, but what could ever impel him to do such a thing? 

The blood was blossoming deeply over Rock's shirt, down his hand and dripping from his gun to the ground. He had taken his hand away from the wound, letting the blood run freely. If he was shooting at Rock, then surely he deserved to die? 

Hopefully loss of blood will kill me, was Rock's first savage thought. 

He closed his eyes and opened them again as the man said, "Weakling." 

Those tears were now threatening to overflow from Rock's pale blue eyes. Was he right? Rock was crying, and this did make him a weakling . . . And what a weakling he was.

Rock felt that it shouldn't matter anymore. He was going to die, let him think he was to go down a weakling. The man already thought he was, why not let him keep thinking this. But Rock still wanted to know why he would hate him enough to shoot him and let him die in misery. Rock looked the man in the eyes.

"Why, father . . . Why?"

Author's Note: Okay, I had to change a few things. I tried to get my mother and a friend to read it and the little people that they really are told me to make some corrections . . . a few of which I kind of agreed on. But tell me what you think and if it should countinue. rockofmarduk and Xalan, thanks to you bunches! *snifflesniffle*


	2. Part 2

A/N: Since a couple of people wanted to know what was happening here, I've decided to resolve the slight confusion. This is also a little like the story Metropolis: Fallen Light in that the humans dying are robot supporters, much like the massacre. These are Rock's thoughts. It's supposed to be in italics, if it's not, oh well.  
  
My vision was blurred, I saw nothing. I only heard the faint sound of his boots brought to my ears. The cries of the petty supporters were dying out. He came closer to me, his laugh echoing loudly in my ears.  
Unbearable . . . It was too wrong . . . What reason would he have to do this to me?  
"Why, father? Why?" I had asked. He only approached me, laughing at me. I felt humiliated and I could very much feel it burning in to me. I couldn't see much but I thought I could just make out the gun still raised in his hand; he was pointing it at me.  
Was he going to shoot me again? It wasn't much painful to me. No, what pained me more than that bullet wound was the fact that my own father would do such a thing to me. My pride was hurt and I knew that in front of my Marduks I looked like a cowardly little boy. That's how I felt, anyway.  
I cowered in his wake. He bore down on me with the gun. I heard him speak, only faintly, his words piercing my every being.  
"You're pathetic . . . You're worthless . . ." I could only make out snatches of his sentences. I was slipping in and out and hoping he would just shoot me now . . . But I thought . . . I asked him why, he gave me no answer, so I repeated. The least he could do was let me die knowing what I meant to him. Though I knew I meant nothing to his being I eventually came to think he saw me as the son he never had. That, and a replacement for . . . for Her.  
"Why, father? Why do this?" I asked weakly. He laughed again, though I only barely heard him. I was still slipping out, my blurred vision slipping in and out of focus. I felt like I could collapse at his feet any moment, then-  
"My weapon is complete, the robots will be gone soon, I no longer have a use for you." This hurt me. It felt like eternity for the gun to go off again. I wished it would hurry and end. Instead of having my life flashing before my eyes I seemed to be reliving every moment, just like when it happened, only I seemed to be distant, not in my body . . . I would watch as I became a Marduk, I would watch from across the distance as my father hit me and I cowered yet again.  
But this would be all over soon, or, at least, I hoped. I was beginning to wonder if he would end it quickly, because he never liked me, or end it slowly . . . well, because he never liked me. Or maybe he did, it's just my use to him was gone . . . Still, I thought he loved me . . . Apparently I was wrong.  
  
Author's Notes: Hope you're happy, hope I didn't leave this one hanging as well . . . I don't think I should do this, but for your happiness I will b/c people will keep asking why he was killed. Actually I don't remember if this was the reason or now. If I think of it I'll post it. 


	3. Part 3

Notes: A continuation! This chapter and one more for Dukie-boy, and I'll be fini! 

Duke Red looked down from the gate as the misery proceeded. Nearly four hours ago he had ordered the robots and supporters dwelling in Zone One to be wiped out, destroyed. Why wasn't it done yet?

It wouldn't matter. His plans were complete. His weapon was complete. She was complete. Yes, the love of his life. His daughter . . . the replica, in any case. Nothing to worry about . . . soon, Metropolis would be what he had dreamed . . . no robots, no beats of scrap, and metal . . . things no one wanted anymore . . . and he would be looked up to again, not as the Duke . . . not as the man giving them what they wanted, or giving charity . . . but as the hero, as their representative.

He inwardly chuckled at himself. Powerful dreams, they were. Very powerful, and very firm. He would fulfill them, he was sure.

The very slow gate came to a complete halt and the grille opened to admit him into the fiery hell that had been called Zone One. The Marduks were cheering, yelling, firing their guns . . . killing them all . . . killing the robot supporters and destroying all of robot-kind. There would be nothing left . . . not supporters, not robots . . . not a leader of Marduks . . . hell, not even the Marduks themselves! Metropolis would be a normal city once again, full of humans . . .

Yes, humans with jobs, who didn't complain because they had no more money; no more humans living on the streets . . . just a normal, wealthy, economic city. 

Duke Red stood on the slope, the short, squat, fat man standing beside him and fanning his own face from the heat of the fire. At the base of the steps stood the little wretch . . . the one he had come to kill . . . his son . . . Rock.

Ending Notes: Prepare for possibly the final chapter to this little idea ^_^ Well, it's about 11:30 at night here right now, and Anna's gotta finish her pre-al homework and get a shower and go to bed and get four and a half hours of sleep, so bye-bye =P


	4. Part 4

Note: Last chapter . . . or I may do one more after this haven't decided . . . hell, I practically JUST had the idea to continue it ^_^ Have fun

Duke Red's POV

My son looked pretty happy with himself, considering they were victorious. Him and his Marduks. Him and MY Marduks. 

My gun was tucked away safely under my coat. My right hand reached through the thick, cotton folds, my fingers wrapping themself tightly around the handle . . . pulling it out . . .

I watched for a few seconds more, my vistorious son walking forward towards the fire, his own gun held in his hand. Time he did a little work . . . Or, well, so he had planned. 

I realized then that I had had my gun pointing at him. Had it there, didn't I? Intended to use it, did I not? Well . . . that was all a gun was for in this city, shooting . . . hurting . . . killing . . . 

My index finger was resting on the trigger, and even I was anxious to squeeze it . . . I know, I'm not the murderous type . . . but this . . . was necessary . . . anyone would agree with me . . . Right?

Still . . . I waited . . . Something was keeping my from squeezing the trigger, something . . . was wrong. Was this even right? Should I? No! I was questioning myself. But why? There was no doubt in my mind that I shouldn't shoot Rock . . . No . . . there wasn't. There couldn't be. This was right and I had no further use for him. Tima was complete, and the Marduks of Zone One were destroyed. That's all that mattered now. The rest could be terminated without his help.

Now I'm set. I've got no other ostacles there, standing in my way. Nothing to stop me . . . so I pulled . . . slowly. He turned around, looking at me. He shook his head roughly, his sunglasses askew. His clear blue eyes had a look of . . . fear? Sadness? Confusion? Anger?

So many emotions! It seems that like so many others before him he has succumbed to the living the life of a common person . . . run by their emotions. My hand had begun to shake but I steadied it. He looked at me for a few moments, and I raised my gun again, setting my finger, getting ready.

"Why, father? Why?" he asked. Stupid boy. Idiot, foolish. I can't believe I ever claimed that wretch, that child, as my son! But . . . wait . . . I never did claim him. As much as he tried to be my son, I never let him. A now? Now . . . I'm letting a robot replace him and my daughter . . . but that was Tima! 

And really . . . now I realize that that's really what Rock is . . . a child . . . but he's never acted like it, has he? Working so much farther than he needed to please me, to do what was asked of him. He was given a man's job and performed it even better than a real man could have done.

But still . . . I had no use for him. Without another thought, I pulled the trigger one last time. 


End file.
